Discipline
by Beer Good
Summary: Season 2: 'Passion' ends differently: Buffy doesn't get there in time and Giles dies. As Buffy tries to cope with the guilt, other forces idecide to take advantage. Enter a new team of watchers, headed by a certain principal, to guide Buffy THEIR way...
1. Passion Play

**Discipline**

_Author's note: I have no idea how far this will go, but for starters I think it's going to be a rewrite of the end of season 2. Not because I think I can do it BETTER than Joss, but... I always wanted to try out some new character relationships. _

* * *

**Chapter 1: Passion Play**

The scoobies stood around Giles' empty apartment, still too much in shock from Jenny's death to think clearly.

"So Giles is gonna try to kill Angel, then?"

Xander scoffed. "Well, it's about time somebody did."

"Xander!"

"I'm sorry, but let's not forget that I hated Angel long before you guys jumped on the bandwagon. So I think I deserve a little something for not saying 'I told you so' long before now. And if Giles wants to go after the... _fiend_ that murdered his girlfriend, I say, 'Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!'"

Buffy walked slowly down the stairs as the full impact of what had happened – what was still happening – hit her. "You're right."

"Thank you."

"There's only one thing wrong with Giles' little revenge scenario."

"And what's that?"

She looked at him in horror. "It's gonna get him killed."

* * *

Angelus had been taken by surprise. That annoyed him. He had expected Buffy to show up, though later rather than sooner; if he knew her, she'd be spending the evening weeping with her little friends. As for the watcher, he had been half hoping the police would lock him up for a while – come on, ex-girlfriend found dead in the apartment of weird loner? Sure, the police in Sunnydale were so incompetent you'd think someone had given specific orders to hire only the dumbest of the dumb, but still, that's gotta be suspicious. Having Giles convicted of murdering the woman he loved would have been beautiful. But no, instead here he was, whaling on him with a baseball bat. Admirable, in a way. But mostly incredibly stupid. Angelus waited for an opening, and when it came he lashed out, grabbing Giles by his throat and lifting him clear off his feet. The baseball bat clattered to the concrete floor. 

"All right. You've had your fun. But you know what it's time for now? Huh? Come on, Rupert old boy, you're supposed to be the one with the answers."

He wasn't really waiting for a reply – his hand blocking Giles' windpipe, slowly choking the life out of him, pretty much made one impossible anyway. Angelus tilted his head to take in the anguish and impotent rage on his victim's face.

"You know, killing your girlfriend was amusing and all. I love a good chase, especially the part where you almost let them get away. There's something poetic about seeing that last flicker of hope flare up and then blow it out... wouldn't you agree, Willie?"

The two other vampires had re-emerged from the back of the factory. Spike seethed at being called by his old name. "Just kill him and be done with it. If the watcher's here, the Slayer can't be far behind. We need to get out of here."

His grandsire didn't even dignify him with a look, never taking his eyes off Giles. "Now, Rupert... to be perfectly frank, I've been wanting to kill you since I first met you, soul or not. Of course, that's true for most Englishmen, but you're even more annoying than some I could mention. All that crap about destiny and procedure and good and evil and... really, I don't see how Buffy even stays awake around you. Of course, I don't see her around, so maybe she finally had enough of you too. Maybe it'll be best for all of us if I just kill you right here."

He brought Giles within biting distance... and Giles did the only thing that remained to him and spat in his tormenter's face. Thrusting his victim back up into the air fast enough to almost snap the librarian's neck one-handed, Angelus grimaced. "Then again... Dru, honey? You want this piece of garbage? I really can't be bothered. He tastes like... tea." Angelus threw Giles down at Drusilla's feet, where he struggled weakly to crawl away. Cooing gently, she lifted him like a rag doll and buried her fangs in his neck.

* * *

By the time Buffy reached the factory, it was empty except for Giles' body lying on the floor. Do I really need to describe it in detail? Count every tear, relate every word she whispered to him between sobs, describe the horror on her face as she realized she couldn't be sure he had not been turned? Let's just leave it at the daughterly kiss she placed on his forehead before she doused him with gasoline from the Molotov cocktails he had brought. She stood outside watching as the factory burned, a tiny girl with power but no direction, desperately trying to remember some prayer to guide Giles on his way, trying to hold on to his image, burn it into her mind along with everything he taught her... but as the flames rose, she felt only cold, grief and solitude. 

"I can't do this alone."


	2. Office Space, Part 1

**Interlude: Office Space Part 1**

"Sir?"

"Yes, Stewart?"

"You asked me to keep you posted about anything regarding the Slayer. Well, we've just received some very interesting information."

Stewart's boss listened as he told him about the watcher's demise. "My, that Angelus does like to mess things up, doesn't he? He's a loose cannon. Doesn't play by the rules. But then again, how can you not love someone who's that good at it?"

"So do we take him out? He could get really dangerous..."

"I think... no. Not yet. There might be a way we could use this to our advantage."


	3. Substituting

**Chapter 2: Substituting**

The last thing Xander wanted to do this morning was go to school, but here he was. He needed to see the others again, needed them to confirm that this was real. Because it felt way too much like the kind of nightmare where suddenly you're naked in front of the whole class. But when first period started, Buffy's, Willow's and Cordelia's desks were still empty. As Mr. Wilson tried to teach them about the Crusades, he thought back to last night; how they'd stayed behind in Giles' apartment, waiting for Buffy and Giles to get back... and then the phone ringing. He had answered it, so he was the one who had to relay Buffy's news to the others.

_"She was too late. Giles is dead."_

_Giles is dead._ He'd have to ask Willow about that when he saw her; he was pretty sure there was a noun or a verb or... one of those things missing in that sentence somehow, because it didn't make any sense.

After the class ended, he walked down the hallway hearing people whispering about it all around. The computer teacher was dead, she'd been found in the librarian's flat, and then he'd gone missing before the cops had time to investigate... everyone was drawing conclusions. When he got to his locker, Willow was there waiting, Oz beside her with his arm around her shoulders. He tried to put on a brave face.

"Hey, Will. This has got to be the first time I get to class before you do, you slacker you." Then they hugged, and he had to support her even though his own knees felt ready to buckle at any second. "Shhh, Will... it's OK. It's OK."

"No it isn't." She looked up at him, her eyes red – she obviously hadn't slept. "They're dead, Xander. It's not OK. How can you even..." And she started crying again, pulling Oz into the hug and holding on to the two remaining men in her life to keep from falling apart. At some point Cordelia joined the hug, uncharacteristically silent.

"Wow, check it out. Geeky group sex." That tone and the accompanying giggles from her sidekicks, of course, signalled the arrival of Harmony. "I mean, really. It's gross, but you can't help looking."

Xander glared at her. "Don't you have class?"

"Actually, no I don't. Computer class got cancelled. And when they arrest that weird foreigner for murdering Miss Calendar, I'll be sure to thank him for th-"

It happened too quickly for anyone to stop. Suddenly Harmony was on the floor with a nosebleed, Cordelia standing over her with clenched fists.

"HEY!" You could almost hear the rusty cogwheels in Harmony's brain trying to make sense of this. She looked to the former Cordettes for backup. "She hit me!"

Cordelia didn't answer, except by staring even more intently at her one-time best friend, unknowingly baring her teeth. Xander stepped up and put his hands on her shoulders. "Let it go, Cor. She's not worth it." Cordelia refused to move at first, then turned to him and put her head on his shoulder.

Harmony got up, wiping at her nose. "You... you FREAKS. I bet you even helped him kill her."

Xander didn't even look at her. "Just concentrate on walking away, Harmony. If you keep talking, you might lose count of the whole right foot-left foot thing."

The cheerleader shot them a last icy stare, then turned and walked off with her head high, her crew trailing behind her. The four friends stood there, arms around each other, trying to ignore the stares from everyone else.

* * *

Of course, they found Buffy in the library, the place where you could still sense Giles' presence. From the looks of it she'd been here all night, running on vending-machine coffee as she frantically pored over the huge pile of books on the table. She barely seemed to notice when they walked up to her. 

"Hey, Buffy." Willow figured it was up to her to put on best-friend face. "Whatcha reading?" Buffy didn't answer, so she picked up one of the books. "_Tales Of Daemonic Infestation In The Balkans During The Reign Of Mattias Corvinus_, huh? Any good?"

"I... I don't know, it's... I've never read all these. I should have paid more attention. He knew all this stuff, he was supposed to teach me... is this even English?" She gestured in frustration at the tome in front of her, hand-written in some archaic alphabet. "I flunked History, I have NO clue where what or who the Balkans are, and I'm supposed to do this by myself now?"

"You're not by yourself, you know that. And you don't have to do this now. It's OK if you want to take a break..."

"But I can't. Not yet. I have to... I need to..." She wanted to stop and grieve, she really did, but there was no time right now. She surprised herself by laughing, a nervous snort that was almost a sob. "_One girl in all the world_, remember? _She alone has the power to fight..._ I was ten minutes late and he died, I have to get better, faster, stronger, smarter, but I don't know how... And Angel is out there killing people and I don't know how to stop him..."

Willow and Xander exchanged a worried look. This was not good. "Buff... no one's asking you to do Giles' job. Don't you think the council will send a new watcher?" The words were out of Xander's mouth before he had time to think about them, and hurt him almost as much as they obviously hurt Buffy.

She shook her head violently before she had time to think about it. _As if anyone could just replace Giles._ "I... I'm not sure how that works. So far, we're the only ones who even know that he's dead, and I have no idea how to even get in touch with them. I think they're in England somewhere." She sighed. "Maybe it's for the best if they don't. I mean, this is the second watcher I've gotten killed... maybe they should just give up on me." She pushed a couple of books off the table and almost broke down... then clenched her teeth and choked the tears back, forcing herself to be all business. "So what's going on in the real world?"

"Buff..."

"No. We have to focus here. Angel is going to pay for this, and if you're really with me, you'll help me. What's happened since..." She looked at the clock on the wall and was surprised at how late it was, almost lunchtime already.

"Everybody seems to agree that Giles..." Xander had to clear his throat. "That Giles killed Miss Calendar and then went on the run. And since everyone knows we hung out with him..." He glanced around the library. "Weird that the police haven't been here, you'd think it was the first place they would look."

"I guess maybe they–"

Buffy's reply was cut short as the doors flew open and principal Snyder stepped into the library, looking even more furious than usual. "My office, Summers. Right this second."


	4. Déjà Vu

**Chapter 3: Déjà Vu**

_If I had ever been here before  
I would probably know just what to do  
Don't you?_

Trudging through the empty hallways behind Snyder, Buffy found herself hearing one of Giles' weird old albums playing in her sleep-deprived head. She didn't know what the song was called, and she supposed now she never would. Something about the song had made her almost seasick the first time she heard it – considering Giles' creepy taste in music, she supposed the ones who recorded it were on drugs. Was this what that felt like? Her vision was blurry, her feet seemed to sink about an inch into the floor with every step...

_If I had ever been here before on another time around the wheel  
I would probably know just how to deal  
With all of you_

Except she couldn't deal. She'd spent all night trying to think up a way, and every unreadable book had told her the same thing: she was no good at this. She wasn't then, and she wasn't now. It was Los Angeles all over again.

_And I feel  
Like I've been here before_

Not just the humiliating march to the principal's office, but the whole thing. She'd gotten Merrick, her first watcher, killed. She'd been kicked out of school, lost her friends and broken up her family. Since then, she'd thought she had come so far, only to end up right back in the same place.

_We have all been here before  
We have all been here before..._

She should have quit back when that was still an option. Instead she'd just failed again, and gotten Giles and Miss Calendar killed. Losing her first watcher had been a blow; this felt a thousand times worse. She thought of all the times she'd mocked Giles for being too stuffy, too square, too British; yet while she had wasted time weeping over Jenny, he had gone off to die in battle. _Her_ battle.

_We have all been here before  
We have all been here before..._

She managed to lift her gaze from the floor to the man walking in front of her. She had no idea what she had done to upset Snyder this time, but apparently it was worse than usual; the little troll looked almost giddy with fury. Buffy figured she had maybe 20 minutes left as a student at Sunnydale High, but couldn't bring herself to care. One thing mattered now: get revenge. Make Angel pay. Then whatever happened, happened.

_We have all been here before  
We have all been here before..._

Not until she sat down in Snyder's office did she realize that she was crying. The principal sat down behind his desk, gave her a disgusted look and shoved a packet of Kleenex her way.

"God, Summers, clean yourself up. Act your age for once in your life." He looked at her, waiting for her full attention. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in?"

"I suppose you do?" She couldn't help mouthing off. It just earned her a smug smile.

"Well, let's see, shall we? You whore yourself out to your dead boyfriend who turns evil and goes on a killing spree. You have the chance to stop him, instead you choose to let him go. As a result, he murders your watcher, leaving you an even more useless Slayer than before. Did I miss something?" He rolled his eyes at her shocked expression. "Please. You don't think I know what goes on in _my_ school? I've tolerated your... extra-curricular activities as long as they didn't interfere with my business, but your antics just cost me one of my best teachers and a librarian. And I can't allow that to continue."

"So I'm expelled?" Buffy wasn't sure what part of her managed to carry on a conversation. She supposed it was shock.

"Would it were so, Summers. Would it were so." Snyder leaned back, taking a moment to enjoy the idea. "But sadly, no. However, from now on things are going to run very differently. I will be taking over as your watcher."

"YOU?" Buffy stared at him incredulously. She wanted to laugh in his face, but there was nothing funny about this. "So, what, the whole you-hating-me thing was just for show?"

"Oh no, Summers." Snyder leaned forward, staring her down. "As far as I'm concerned you're a complete failure, make no mistake about that. As a student and as a Slayer. Two watchers killed – there aren't many _vampires_ who can boast that, let alone Slayers. But fact remains: you _are_ the Slayer. _Into each generation_ et cetera. And since my superiors don't want you... removed," he paused to make sure she understood exactly what that word meant, "my only option is to try to turn you into a halfway decent one."

Buffy's head was spinning. "So... you represent the council?"

"I represent _a_ council, yes."

"And _you're_ going to teach me to fight? _You're_ going to teach me about ancient... stuff?"

The principal snorted, making it very clear what a stupid question she had just asked. "Please. I'm a principal, not a teacher. No, you'll have separate instructors for that, experts, not prematurely aging librarians. But I will be in charge." Snyder got up and stood over her, somehow looking a lot more intimidating than he ever had before. "I will drive you hard, Summers, and there'll be none of the pampering you're used to, but work with me and I'll make you better at your job. Oppose me, and I'll not only expel you – after all, you'd probably enjoy that – but your little friends as well. See how they'll appreciate that. Not to mention how vulnerable they'll be if you're going to try and do this yourself, because we all know by now how that turns out. Any questions?"

"Just one." Buffy Summers looked down and swallowed; Buffy the Vampire Slayer looked up and met Snyder's gaze. "Are you going to help me get Angel?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm your girl."

* * *

_Author's note: the song is "Déjà Vu" by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young. And yes, it does tend to make me seasick._


	5. Phone Call, Part 1

**Interlude: Phone Call, Part 1  
**_Just one half of the conversation, obviously._

"Snyder here."

"Yes sir, it went perfectly."

"Oh, it was a pleasure. A pure pleasure."

"I sent her home to get some sleep."

"I appreciate that, sir, but she was in no condition to –"

"Absolutely, sir, I am very grateful for everything. I just wish I had known about all of this before this morning, so I could have made myself useful sooner."

"Yes, sir. So everything is prepared for tomorrow then?"

"Fine, then sir. I won't let you down. She'll do what I tell her. After all, this is what I do."


	6. Pieces Of The Puzzle

**Chapter 4: Pieces Of The Puzzle**

Oz rejoined the others in the library. "She's gone."

"Gone where?"

"Home, I hope. Larry saw her leave."

"But..." Willow fumbled for words as Oz hugged her. "You think Snyder really did it? Kicked her out? Why wouldn't she at least stop by and tell us..." They'd been sitting in the library since lunchtime, waiting for Buffy to show up again, but now classes were over and everyone was clearing out.

"She's not thinking straight. You saw her earlier." Xander and Willow had spent the last few hours playing cards; it kept them occupied and somehow seemed safe – they had spent a large part of their lives up until Buffy arrived in each other's bedrooms, focusing on 52 pieces of paper rather than anything outside. Back then, the worst thing that could happen was that Xander's parents would get drunker than usual or that Cordelia would say something hurtful. Now here she was, hovering just outside of their quiet bubble of friendship, making sure Xander knew that she was there. No snarky remarks, no jealousy whenever the two old friends needed to hold hands – Queen C was taking a back seat today, and though no one said anything about it, the way Xander squeezed her hand as Willow went to Oz spoke volumes. "It's... she lost someone very..." Xander didn't quite know how to say it.

Cordelia knew. "She lost her father." No one argued with her.

"So I guess we should... she's gonna need time," Willow nodded distractedly. "We should probably, y'know, take care of patrolling or something..."

Cordelia and Oz exchanged a look; neither of them was any match for Angelus if he decided to show up – especially in their current state. Both of them put their arms around their respective honeys and steered them towards the door.

"Come on. Let's get you guys home first. We'll talk about it all tomorrow."

* * *

Buffy's head hit the pillow like a 16 ton weight, but she couldn't sleep. She had hoped her mother would be at the gallery, but no luck; she barely got in the door before she had found herself in a big mom-hug. 

"Buffy? Oh honey, I've been so worried..."

She had hugged her back, wishing that could make everything go away again. But of course, mom-hugs just don't work as well once you hit a certain age. And then, inevitably, there had been the questions. Where had she been all night, why did she look like she'd aged about five years, why did her clothes reek of smoke and soot... these were all questions Joyce had asked before, two years earlier, and they both knew it. And then the questions about Jenny, what had happened, and who had... of course, Joyce had heard the rumors too.

"Mom, please believe me, he didn't kill her. You've met Giles. Di- does he seem like a killer to you?"

"I... I really don't know, sweetheart. And neither do you. Mr Giles seems like a nice enough man, but... you never know what people are capable of."

What was she going to say? That the vampires got him, that she had seen his dead body, that she had set fire to it herself? She almost did. She came THAT close to breaking down and telling her mom everything. It would have been so easy, letting it all out, shifting responsibility – the last time she had tried that, her dad had shipped her off to a clinic; right now, that didn't feel like such a bad idea.

But eventually, Joyce had let her go upstairs. The previous night's row  
_("You had sex with a boy you didn't even see fit to tell me you were dating!"  
"I made a mistake."  
"Yeah, well, don't just say that to shut me up, because I think you really did."  
"I KNOW that!")_  
and shock, and then the night she'd spent up waiting for Buffy to come home, had drained her almost as much as it obviously had her daughter, and she couldn't bear to push anymore. Questions could wait until tomorrow.

Buffy went into her room, drawing the blind to keep out the afternoon sun, stumbled out of her clothes and collapsed onto bed. But she was too tired to sleep, too tired to cry, and just lay there for hours staring at the ceiling, feeling numb. As the sun set outside, she finally drifted off into some sort of rest.

* * *

"See you tomorrow morning, Willie. Don't wait up, you need your beauty sleep." Angelus smirked as he put his arm around Drusilla and led her out into the night, making sure Spike saw him squeeze her ass – and her letting him. Spike, like most nights when Dru wasn't feeling motherly, was left behind in his wheelchair. 

When the church collapsed on him, Spike's body had been completely ruined; his innards squashed, his spine snapped in half, his pelvis shattered, his legs splintered like firewood. A human who had been through that and survived somehow would have spent what remained of his life as a vegetable.

Spike had been trapped in this chair for months. At first, Dru was with him and helped him – it was humiliating, but at least he had her. Then HE turned up again, and suddenly he could smell him on her, was forced to see him claim her. He'd spent a hundred years washing away the knowledge that Angelus had Dru first, washing it away in streams of blood... only to end up right back where he started. Cuckolded, helpless, mocked. Angelus had always known his sore spot lay in the part of him that wasn't demon; called him William, made damn sure that he understood that there were vampires and Vampires. He may have been turned, but he was not the real thing, would never be; not animal enough. Not evil enough. Just a kid who had stumbled on powers he didn't have the imagination to use for anything truly foul. No matter how many people he killed, he was never bad enough for Angelus – nor, apparently, for Drusilla. Angelus had made that so clear he'd started to believe it himself. And forgotten.

Spike _wasn't_ human. He was a vampire. And vampires heal.

Even if it takes time. The first month, when he had no feeling at all below his ribcage, hadn't been as bad as the following, when his body slowly started piecing itself together again. He could feel the nerve endings stretching and twining (and every one brought a new shock of pain from some reconnected part of his body), the muscles rebuilding, new guts forming, bone fragments fusing with each other and slowly drifting through his body to the right place. It had hurt like hell. Still did. But less every day.

Tentatively, Spike lifted one foot off the footrest. A bolt of pain shot straight up his back and made him snarl, going into vampface without thinking about it. He lifted the other one, same result. Slowly, clenching his teeth against the pain, he leaned forward and shifted his weight onto his feet for the first time in months, not quite standing but at least squatting, his arse off the seat, his hands on the armrests supporting some but not all of him. The pain was almost unbearable but he could take that, even revel in it; if everything hurt, that meant everything worked again. He wiggled his toes, flexed his knees, felt his cock stir ever so slightly, heard his brand new stomach rumble.

Then he flopped back into the chair, exhaling and morphing back into human face. He wasn't ready yet. But it wouldn't be long now.

Someone would pay.

_Author's note: Sorry about the delay, writer's block is a bitch. But hopefully I've gotten most of the setup out of the way now and we'll get going on the actual story._


	7. Alone

**Chapter 5: Alone**

Joyce was up early, but when she came into the kitchen she was surprised to find her daughter up and making breakfast already.

"Hi honey. You're an early bird today...?"

"You know me," Buffy tried (and failed) for cheeriness, "anything to catch a worm... uh, not a real one of course." She'd slept for 12 hours, but hardly looked like she'd gotten any rest.

"Buffy... you know, you don't have to go to school today. I've taken the day off, you can phone in sick if you just want to stay home and talk."

"I appreciate it, Mom, but I'm OK, really, I just want to get back into the swing of things again."

"Then at least let me make you some real breakfast. You don't have to leave for another hour."

And this is where Buffy slipped. "I can't, I have to meet with Principal Snyder before classes start."

Her mother immediately stiffened up and grew concerned, with an upgrade to 'upset' lurking around the corner. "Buffy, please tell me you're not in trouble with the school again. We've had to move once already, I really don't think I could –"

"No, Mom. No. Absolutely not. Please, just trust me. It's... you know what Snyder's like. He's going to yell at me for skipping last period yesterday and that'll be it. I promise."

Buffy hadn't really had time to do her hair this morning, just tied it back, and one strand hung across her face. Joyce reached out and pushed it behind her ear, sighing sadly. "You're growing up so fast, Buffy... just promise me you won't do it too fast, OK? You know you can tell me anything."

Buffy nodded, knowing she really couldn't.

* * *

Buffy was right on time for her meeting with Principal Snyder, but she still had to wait outside for half an hour before his secretary sent her in – time well spent staring into the gray wall of the Principal's office and mulling over the past two days. When she was allowed to go in, his office was crowded; besides Snyder himself, Buffy also found herself being regarded – much like a curious animal in a cage – by a well-dressed but wrinkle-faced man in his late 50s and a muscular younger man with piercing eyes whom she, under other circumstances, might have found good-looking. Snyder didn't introduce them right away, just pointed to the chair in front of his desk. She sat down. 

"Now, Summers, I appreciate that the last two days have been hard on you and I'm prepared to cut you some slack. But in the future, I will not tolerate tardiness."

"Tardiness? I wasn't late, I've been here for –"

"And don't change the subject." He leaned back. "Now, here's what's going to happen. Since your training so far has obviously been inadequate, you'll be spending the next few weeks getting proper guidance. Obviously, this is going to take up a lot of your time."

"What about classes?"

"I'm sure you'll find some time for those too. If you don't, let's just say that in my school non-attendance – for the right purpose – can be overlooked. As long as you do your duty as a Slayer, I'll see to it that you get a passing grade in every subject. Judging from your previous academic record, that's more than you deserve." The older man in the black suit cleared his throat, and Snyder fidgeted in his chair. "Right then. I suppose it's time you meet your new trainers. You'll be expected to do as they say at all times – of course, they'll be taking their orders from me, as will you. This," he pointed to Suit Guy, "is Rutherford Sirk, who will be tutoring you in history, mythology, magic and all those things. And Jeremiah here," he indicated the younger man, "will work on your physical abilities. We will help you do what you want done, Summers: we will help you stop Angelus. But on our conditions. This isn't a game. Do you understand?"

As if he needed to point that out. "Yes."

"Then here's the final condition – for now. I would strongly suggest that you stop this nonsense of including your friends in your mission. I'm sure you'll agree with me that the only thing that's doing is putting them in unnecessary danger."

"But-"

"No buts. We are here to help _you_, Summers. Not them. Enough people at this school have died because they got to close to you, don't you think? You can't look after them while you're fighting, and I would _really_ like for you to keep them out – otherwise I will. And that includes not telling them about our arrangement. Are we clear?"

Buffy was ashamed of herself when she agreed, but she knew he was right. This was going to get dirty, and it was her fight. Not the others'. As soon as she had put Angel down, she'd make it up to them.

* * *

After first period, the scoobies reconvened in the rec area – minus Buffy, who was still a no-show. Oz had taken advantage of his senior privileges to take a quick run downtown and see that Joyce's gallery was closed, and the mood was pretty subdued. 

"So," Willow tried, "I guess her and Mrs Summers have taken a mother/daughter day. That's gotta be good... right? I mean, she probably really needs to talk to someone... someone who cares about her..." Oz stroked her hair, and got a smile for it.

"She just needs to have a good cry, and she'll be here tomorrow bright and early." Xander, of course, was Solution Guy. "In the meantime, what was it we said yesterday about patrolling? If Buffy is out, we should at least do a sweep. The four of us can handle a vamp or two. And if we run into Angel... we'll make Giles proud. OK?" Everyone nodded. "Right. Sundown at the cemetary, then. Bring any weapons you're comfortable with."

As everyone walked back to their lockers, Oz took Willow aside. "She's not cutting us off, Will. You know that, right? She needs time."

"Yeah." Willow put on her brave face. "I just wish I could see her... she must be hurting."

* * *

In a training room in the back of the school gym, Buffy _was_ hurting, though not necessarily in the way Willow imagined. Battle training with Jeremiah turned out to be completely different to training with Giles. He'd said he wanted to start out by testing her fighting abilities, but this wasn't a polite exercise against someone three times her age; this was an all-out battle, fists and kicks all over the place. With Giles, she'd always held back, but Jeremiah went all out and they were almost evenly matched. What he lacked in strength, he made up for in agility and martial arts, and for every hit she landed she got one in return. It felt... good. Getting to beat someone up, taking a few punches herself – hard, physical, sweaty, painful. Every muscle in her body was working and it felt more real than anything of the past few days. She just wished he'd stop talking... even if it did make it easier to hit him. 

"So, Buffy, you've got Angelus against the wall. What do you do?"

She dropped down faster than the human eye could follow, swept his legs and slammed her fist into his chest. If she had had a stake in her hand that would have been the end of him, vampire or not. He laughed and tossed her off him, getting to his feet in one movement.

"Good! That's good, Buffy! Except that's not what you did, is it? What did you do?"

They faced off again, Buffy jumping around him trying to find a weak spot. She found it, slipped in and easily ducking his attempt to grab her, she threw him halfway across the room. When he got back up, she got him with a karate chop right over the neck – pulling back at the last fraction of a second so she didn't kill him, just grazed him. She could have taken his head off. A vampire would have been dust. And again, that laugh.

"Perfect! But you didn't do that. I said," he faked a left and threw a right that caught her in the jaw, "what did you DO? Angelus had already killed, he killed again, he's killing as we speak! He killed your watcher, Buffy, WHAT did YOU do to stop him?"

_Alright, you asked for it._ Furious, Buffy put all her strength into one mighty kick against his groin. Jeremiah sidestepped her with almost inhuman speed, caught her foot and used her own momentum to flip her flat on her back. She gasped in pain as she pulled a muscle in her calf.

"You let your emotions guide you." He aimed a kick at her, and she barely managed to get out of the way. "You went for the hurt, not the kill." His fist caught her in the shoulder as she jumped to her feet, she got all her weight on the injured leg and cried out. "You acted like a schoolgirl," he kicked her legs out from under her, "getting revenge on her cheating boyfriend!" He flipped her over, twisting her arms behind her back. "Guess what, Buffy? You're not a schoolgirl, and Angelus didn't just invite the wrong girl to the prom. You're the Slayer. You need to be the Slayer every day," he twisted her arms even further, the pain shooting through her, "every hour, every fucking SECOND if you're going to beat him. Are you ready for that?" He shifted, trying to get a better grip, and she slammed the back of her head into his face. Getting up, she kicked him in the chest, sending him flying. He looked up at her, wiped the blood from his nose and grinned.

"Whaddyaknow. You got potential, kid. We just might make a Slayer of you yet." He got up, obviously in some pain but still smiling. "I think that's enough for one day – Sirk will want you for a couple of hours, and that Slayer healing should have you in shape by tonight. Hit the showers."

* * *

Willow walked into the computer room, turning to face the class and the empty seat where her best friend should have been. "Hi. Principal Snyder asked me to fill in for Ms Calendar... until the new computer science teacher arrives. So I'm just gonna stick to the lesson plan she left."

* * *

Working with Rutherford Sirk was almost as painful as the morning's training had been, except not physically. At first his neat appearance and English accent had seemed almost comforting, as if he were Giles' older brother or something, but that had gone away the first time he answered her in a sarcastic tone that let her know exactly what he thought of her. For much of the afternoon, she sat parked at the big table in the library as he went over Giles' books and notes, mostly muttering to himself and shaking his head at things he read. Any question from her was met with an icy glare that made her feel like an insect. Occasionally he'd toss out a quick question about some demon she'd never heard of, and roll his eyes when she failed to give the correct answer. Eventually, he started lecturing in a dry, matter-of-factly hostile tone. Four hours later she walked out knowing everything about Angelus, every monstrosity, every perversity, everything Giles had not wanted her to know. She felt grateful; it made it easier, and she was sure she would never have figured it out by herself.

* * *

"OK. The important thing is not to panic. I think." Xander tried to sound sure of what he was saying.

"You sure?" Cordelia looked at him. "Because from where I'm standing, panic is looking like a pretty good plan."

The gang had gotten as far as the first cemetary, where they found themselves surrounded by half a dozen vamps and backed into a corner by the fence. Xander and Oz were holding out crosses, but the vampires were closing in and there wasn't anywhere to run. Willow was frantically trying to load a crossbow that was obviously designed for someone much stronger. Things were not looking good. One of the vamps stepped forward, signalling the others to attack – only to turn into a cloud of dust as a stake rammed into him from behind. Within seconds, two of the others followed suit; the rest fled, leaving the gang to stare at the Slayer who stood panting before them.

"Geez, Buff, it's good to see you! We thought you were -"

Xander's greeting was abruptly cut off, and any thoughts of hugs and thanks were quickly forgotten as they saw the cold fury in her eyes. "What the HELL are you guys doing here? Are you _trying_ to get yourselves killed? You couldn't even handle these guys, what if Angel had showed up?"

Willow tried to explain. "We just thought..."

"You thought what? That you could take Angel on?"

"That we might help you. That's what we do, remember? We miss Giles too, but..."

"And it would be a _great_ help for me to have four more funerals to go to this week!", Buffy snapped. Then she calmed down a little, but still kept her distance. "Look, I promise you, I am going to get him for what he did to Giles. But until I do, I need you to stay _out_ of this. It's way too dangerous. Angel isn't going to stop at anything to hurt me, and he knows how much you guys... I can't lose you too! Do you GET that? Go HOME." Buffy turned and walked off, leaving her friends to stare in disbelief after her.

Xander looked to Cordelia. "Right. Panic it is."


	8. Thin Line Between Love And Hate

**Chapter 6: Thin Line Between Love And Hate  
**_"See, this is what I hate about you vampires. Sex and death and love and pain... it's all the same damn thing to you." - Buffy_

* * *

_Author's note: Fair warning – as we all know, vampires' sex life/family life is complicated (since they're usually one and the same) so this will get slightly icky. (And I know this is moving slowly and there's not much plot in this one either, just character development which will come into play soon. I promise. There WILL be a great big cliffhanger next time.) _

* * *

Spike sat awake as the sun rose outside the mansion where they'd set up, staring at the bed he supposedly shared with Drusilla. He wanted to just get up and crawl into it – no, actually, he wanted to stand up, walk into the next room and kill them both. But since he still wasn't strong enough to do that, he sat in his wheelchair. After all, if Dru came in and found him in bed, she might wonder just how well his legs were healing. And he couldn't trust her not to tell Angelus. 

He couldn't trust her. For 118 years, she'd been his entire unlife. They'd shared everything, he'd done everything to please her. And then HE shows up and it takes her all of five minutes to... He put his hands over his ears, trying to block out the sounds from the other bedroom, but vampire hearing is a powerful sense and he could hear every moan, every squeak, every contact of cold flesh on cold flesh. It seemed to take hours before they were finished and she came back.

As she helped him undress and lifted him into bed, he could smell every place he had touched her – another vampire sense kicking in. Her blood where he had bitten her, right where she liked it – he wondered if she had shown him, or if he had known since before. His essence still dripping down her legs.

She got into bed next to him, exhausted. "You're not cross with me, Spike, are you? It's only Daddy..."

"Of course not, Ducks." He didn't bother to hide the hate in his voice; she wouldn't hear it anyway, she was lost in her own thoughts.

"And he misses her so, hates her so... golden hair, pretty nose, tiny little girl with power to make him whole. When I look in his heart, she's all I see. When he's in me, she's all he wants. Her face, my flesh, her fire, my juices. She gave him life, and he killed her. He dreams her life, her death..."

"What are you talking about... the Slayer? Darla?"

"Two little golden girls he had, and now he has none. Filthy Slayer made him fall in love, made him kill Grandma, made him forget himself. Poor Daddy. He cannot forget... have to keep him... happy..."

He listened to her mumbled words fading away as she fell asleep, hating her. She was lying perfectly still and peaceful right next to him and didn't belong to him. Do it now, Spike. It would be so easy. She's asleep. You keep the stake right under the bed for easy access. Do it, take it, plunge it in the treacherous bitch's heart and be done. But vampires see in the dark, and he could see every line on her face, every curve of her body, that little wicked hint of a smile that was the first he'd seen of her. That he'd seen every night for 118 years. His love, his goddess, his...

"I love you, Dru."

God help him, he meant it. Spike lay back down and pulled her close, wishing he could sleep.


	9. Don't Walk Away From Me Part 1

**Chapter 7: Don't Walk Away From Me, Part 1**

Days were starting to bleed together in Buffy's head. A week had gone by, a week that had consisted mostly of training, slaying and people telling her she sucked. She hadn't found much time for schoolwork – obviously, she didn't need to; thanks to Snyder's string-pulling, she'd already passed one pop quiz she didn't even attend, so that was one good reason to skip classes she'd never liked anyway.

The other, obviously... it wasn't so much that she didn't _want_ to see her friends. But the morning after the confrontation in the cemetary had been ugly. She'd tried to act like it was a normal day, but when it turned out she wasn't going to take back anything she'd said – they were out of the slayage business, and that was it until further notice – things had turned very cold. They'd barely talked since. Part of her figured they blamed her too, and were glad to be rid of her. Thankfully that was the same part that was busy blaming her for Giles most of the time  
_(Two watchers killed – there aren't many vampires who can boast that)_  
so she rarely thought about it. She clung to one idea: as soon as she'd gotten the job done, she would explain it all to them, come clean with Mom, and tell Snyder to go to hell. Angel would be her last job as a Slayer.

In the meantime, the only person she could really talk to was Jeremiah. She'd grown to appreciate him a lot, and not just for the fighting moves he was teaching her. When they were alone together, they could even share a joke over Snyder; while Jeremiah was happy to work for the principal, he didn't seem to think highly of him. At least not as much as he did of Sirk; whenever she'd make a remark about the Englishman that was less than respectful, it would always earn her an icy stare and an extra suckerpunch or two during training.

Still, she was grateful someone was on her side. And so every night, she followed orders, patrolled where they told her, hoping this would be the night Sirk's carefully planned patrol schedule would click and she'd run into Angel. Except he always seemed to be someplace else...

* * *

The scoobies, however, weren't giving up on her just yet. With Giles gone, none of them had wanted to go back to the library for the past week, but Willow had stopped by to pick up a book she needed and then come running back to the others with the news that there was a new librarian. A stuffy, middle-aged, tweed-wearing British librarian. 

Xander was the one who said what everyone was thinking. "New watcher?"

"Why don't we just ask him?" Everyone gave Cordelia what Xander had come to call The Look – the one where they all agreed she was talking crazy, though it seemed so logical no one could quite say _why_ it was crazy.

"If he _is_ Buffy's new watcher and she hasn't told us, I kinda doubt he would, and it might get her in troub... Oh! Oh!" Willow had an idea. "I think I know a way to find out. Buffy left something in my locker..."

* * *

Sirk was in the small office in back of the library looking over some old manuscripts when he heard the library door open. He rolled his eyes; he'd agreed to do this job for a few hours every day since it was part of the cover story, and also because Snyder had assured him that most Sunnydale students were barely literate and usually stayed out of the library. Still, for a former watcher to be working as a school librarian... he honestly couldn't believe the Giles lad had actually done this for almost two years. Then again, he remembered the younger watcher as something of a ponce, one of those useful idiots who'll put up with anything as long as you tell them it's for a good cause. Pathetic. But of course, Giles had instilled the same thinking in his Slayer, and that was currently working out nicely for them... he grudgingly walked out to the desk and glared at the young woman who'd come in, making no effort to hide his contempt. "What do you want?" 

"Oh, I'd just like to check this book out, please." Cordelia fired off her brightest smile as she hoisted the book Willow had kept in her locker onto the counter with a distinct "thump". An old, leather-bound and very heavy tome with a single word set in gild in the cover:

**VAMPYR**

"That is..." Sirk hesitated ever so slightly, and kept his eyes fixed on the book just a little bit longer than he might have. "That is ridiculous. This is a school library, we do not carry... cheap horror novels. I don't know where you got that book, young lady, but I highly doubt it's suitable reading material for you." He snatched the book off the counter before she could object. "I'll just confiscate this for now. You can get it back if and when you can show me some sort of proof this is really yours."

Cordelia had half a mind to argue – Queen C was itchin' for a bitchin' – but settled for another patented smile as she turned and walked back outside, feeling Sirk's eyes burn two neat little proverbial holes in her back.

The others were waiting for her, especially Willow. "So? Flinch?"

"_Definite_ flinch", Cordelia agreed. "Someone that obsessed with old books has got to be a watcher, or these shoes aren't Blahniks."

"My girlfriend, ladies and gentlemen: the human bullshit detector." Xander put her arm around her; there had been a lot of hugs in the last week, and though neither of them would probably admit it, they'd grown a lot closer.

And of course, with Xander and Cordelia doing the public display of affection thing, Willow almost automatically moved closer to Oz. "Any sign of Buffy?"

Cordelia shook her head.

"Still", Xander insisted, "if he _is_ her watcher she'll probably be checking in with him before heading out on patrol. I say we stake out the library and see if she shows up. If we're going to help her, we have to know what's going on."

* * *

They took turns, so everyone wouldn't have to skip all their classes. Oz and Willow took over towards the end of the school day, sitting down on a bench where they could see the library doors without being too conspicuous as the last students went home and the school fell quiet and dark. Xander and Cordy hadn't had much to report from their stakeout; principal Snyder had shown up and gone inside the library for a while, but there were no sightings of Buffy or anything else of interest. 

Willow was still getting used to how good it felt to just sit in silence with Oz, his arm around her shoulders. There was never any uncomfortableness; in fact his silence seemed to say more than when he did speak. Still, she couldn't help feeling bad for him. Eventually she worked up the courage to say what was on her mind.

"Look, Oz... I'm really sorry about dragging you into all this life and death stuff. I mean, two months ago you didn't even know about vampires, and now... if we hadn't gotten involved..."

"...I'd be a perfectly normal werewolf", he shrugged.

"Oh. Yeah. Well, there's that. But I'm just saying, y'know..." She barely dared to look at him. "I won't hold it against you if you want to back out."

"Didn't we have this talk once?" Oz mused and looked into her eyes. "Look, Will... I appreciate the offer, and I love you all the more for it, and if you want me gone, I'm gone. But as long as you don't, I'm here." He noticed her staring at him. "What?"

"You... you used the 'L' word. You never did that before."

"Huh." He thought about it. "Guess not. Should I not have?"

"Oh no, I mean yes, I mean if you do I do too... you. I mean, it's you who -"

She stopped babbling when he kissed her. They sat like that for a few minutes before realizing they had a job to do and reluctantly turning their attention back to the library door.

"Feeling better?" Oz asked.

"Oh yes. I-I didn't mean to freak out, Oz, it's just... this whole thing with Buffy makes me feel all icky. I don't see why she would cut us out like this... or OK, I guess I do, what with Giles and Jenny and Angel and everything, but it's not her decision to make. We've been fighting with her too long to just be tossed aside. It just... hurts, y'know?"

"I know what you mean. It's like..." Oz nodded and for once seemed to actually search for the right words. "Like... You can't make me disappear just because you say it's over."

"Yeah. Wait. What?" Willow shook her head and gave him a confused look that suddenly turned into a sad one. "There's no way we can be together. No way people will ever understand. Accept it."

"Is that what this is about? What other people think?"

"No! I just want you to be able to have some kind of a normal life. We can never have that. Don't you see?"

Oz was really getting uncharacteristically worked up now. "I don't give a DAMN about a normal life! I'm going crazy not seeing you. I think about you every minute."

"I know. But it's over. I-it has to be." Willow stood up and tried to walk away, but her boyfriend grabbed her by the arm.

"Come back here! We're not finished yet! You don't care anymore? Is that it?"

"It doesn't matter... it doesn't matter what I feel..."

"Then tell me you don't love me. Say it!" Oz realized he was holding something heavy in his hand. He wasn't sure how it got there, but it felt good to have it, just in case.

Willow was crying openly. "Will that help? Is that what you have to hear? I don't. I don't. Now let me go."

"No. A person doesn't just wake up one day and stop loving somebody." Oz leveled the gun at her. "Love is forever."

* * *

_Author's note: Sorry for the delay in updating. Hope this last plot line doesn't seem like I'm out of ideas - I'm going somewhere with this. Hopefully soon._


	10. Office Space, Part 2

**Interlude: Office Space, Part II**

_One hour earlier_  
"What?" Snyder walked into the library, furious at being summoned over the phone by a subcontractor like Sirk.

"I think you may have a problem." The ex-watcher showed no sign of caring that he'd upset Snyder. "One of Summers' little friends was here earlier. I believe they are onto me."

Snyder's face turned a very interesting shade of red. "How could you let that happen? The boss is NOT going to be happy if we allow them to interfere with -"

"First", Sirk sighed, "having me work as a librarian in plain sight of anyone who might walk in here was not my idea, as you recall. Second, he's your boss, not mine, just like they are your students. I was hired to keep the Slayer in line, not to babysit her friends."

"Don't you dare mouth off to me like that, Sirk. This is indeed MY school, and as long as my boss pays your boss, you'll do what I tell you." Snyder calmed down. "What do they know?"

"How am I supposed to know? They're just children, for God's sake. If they become a problem, we can have them taken out with one phone call."

"Taken...?" Snyder stared at him. "Look, I'm doing this to keep as many children _safe_ as possible, and if you ever suggest any such thing again... not to mention that their safety is the best bargaining chip we have with Summers. I'll come up with some way of dealing with her friends; you just... stop acting suspicious."

Sirk gave a sarcastic bow as Snyder turned around and stormed out.

_One hour later_  
Sirk went over the locator spells again. The Slayer would be by any minute now and he needed to be sure before he sent her out on tonight's mission. Angelus was tricky, he never fed in the same place two nights in a row, and they couldn't afford to have the Slayer run into him just yet – so it was imperative to send her someplace they knew he wouldn't be. Maybe he should check in with the home office... He was about to reach for the phone when a gunshot rang out in the hallway.

* * *

_Author's note: Yes, this story IS still alive. Sorry to leave you dangling on a cliffhanger, but the next chapter is tricky. It should be up in a few days, though._


	11. Don't Walk Away From Me Part 2

**Chapter 8: Don't Walk Away From Me, Part II**

_Author's note 1: Read to the end before you yell at me. And let me know if the last bit gets too weird. It would be a lot easier if I could film this (if any major studio reads this, I'm open to offers)._

Over the last few weeks, Xander had come to accept that his best friend was dating a werewolf. Willow was happy, so he was happy for her. And hey, Oz was a nice guy when there wasn't a full moon on. But he _trusted_ him about as far as he could throw him (he thought that would be about eight feet), and when he turned the corner in the corridor and saw Oz pointing a gun at Willow, he didn't hesitate for a second. The gun went off harmlessly, obliterating a couple of ceiling tiles, as Xander tackled Oz and slammed his head and back into a row of lockers with enough force to almost knock the tiny guitarist out. For a few seconds there was commotion as no one understood quite what was going on; Oz wasn't fighting back when Willow finally managed to grab Xander and stop him from beating her boyfriend to a bloody pulp.

"XANDER! Stop it!" Willow was surprised at how steady her voice was, since her knees felt like they had turned to extra wobbly jell-O. "LISTEN to me. That wasn't Oz."

"Well it sure as hell looks like him!" Xander still wasn't about to let go, but Willow got in his face.

"Whatever it was possessed Oz got me too. Something was making us do this. Now let go of him!"

None of them noticed Sirk peaking out from the library door with a thin smile on his lips. _Fighting amongst themselves. I really do not have a problem with that._ He disappeared back inside.

Willow managed to pry Xander off her boyfriend and knelt next to him. Oz was looking down on the floor, gasping for breath in what she supposed was as close as he would come to panicking. "Oz... you OK?" She put her hand to his chin to get a closer look at his bruises, but he pushed her away and stumbled to his feet.

"Get away from me."

"Oz..."

"No. I..." For once his silence wasn't because he didn't need to speak but because there was nothing he could say. He ran, and Willow took off after him. Xander wanted to follow, but a withering look from Willow told him he wasn't wanted. He was still standing there, feeling his knuckles ache as Buffy ran up to him from the other direction.

"Xander... what happened? I was working out, and I thought I heard..."

"Oh, nothing you need to worry about." Xander's tone was furious. "Oz just tried to kill Willow, that's all. You know, I don't think I've told you how really grateful I am that you're keeping us safe, Buff."

"Oz did WHAT?" Buffy seemed to want to run after them, but Xander held her gaze.

"Do you care? She was trying to help you and it almost got her killed. I'm warning you. Until you're ready to be straight with us, stay the hell away from Willow – or any of us." He walked off before she had time to reply.

Willow caught up to Oz outside the school. "Oz, wait! Where are you going?"

"Will..." He tried to look her in the eye. "This is the second time in a just a few weeks that I've tried to kill you."

"But it wasn't your fault! First it was the wolf, a-and now some sort of... OK, I don't know what that was yet, but -"

"And if Xander hadn't stopped me, you would be dead. I'm sorry Will, but I meant everything I said before. I love you too much to risk that. I just... I need... I have to be somewhere you're not right now." Oz reached out and touched her cheek, then walked off. Willow didn't follow. A casual observer might have expected her to break into tears, and he would have been right, but he would also have been surprised at how quickly she choked them back as a look of determination came upon her face.

* * *

Xander had tried to reach Willow all evening yesterday, but she wasn't in. Eventually he'd gone over to Cordelia's and spent the night – not in a sex way, but just talked for a while and then fallen asleep side by side, feeling a bit safer together than alone. When they got to school the next day she made no attempt to hide that they arrived together, completely ignoring Harmony and her minions when they tried to make a big deal of it. He felt a bit proud at that, but most of what he felt was relief as he saw Willow come running up to them waving a bunch of books and loose papers, obviously speeding on caffeine. 

"God, Will, I was so worried, is everything alright? Where's Oz?"

"He didn't come to school today. We're... on a break, I guess." Willow's mask almost cracked and Xander moved to hug her, but she went into resolve face and turned back to the papers. "Anyway, I've been researching all night. What possessed us was something powerful – something coming from grief and, uh... lost love. So I checked the school records for something that matched, and bingo." She held up a copy of a newspaper, a tragic love story: a student and a teacher who had an affair, and when it ended, the student killed his lover and then shot himself. Before Xander had had time to digest this, Willow had moved on to talking about how it had to be their ghosts that had possessed her and Oz.

"Stupid question?" Cordelia had been reading the article. "This happened in 1955. Why haven't there been any shootings until now?"

"Well, actually..." Willow looked very uncomfortable and lowered her voice. "You guys remember Johnny Willis and Maria Cortez? They were seniors last year?"

"Oh yeah", Cordelia muttered. "That girl was a total fashion disaster. I never got what he saw in her, I mean... wait, don't tell me." She stared at the paper Willow produced, listing dead and missing students by date. "Holy crap."

Willow nodded, still whispering. "Every year around this time, it seems a man and a woman either die or disappear mysteriously. Last year Johnny and Maria were found shot dead on campus. The year before that a teacher and a janitor, and the year before that, and the year before that... I got this out of the school's mainframe, there's nothing in the papers about it, but..."

"I guess it's not the kind of thing Sunnydale High wants everyone to know." Xander shook his head. "Man. So what do we do about it?"

"Well, I've been looking through Miss Calendar's spells and stuff and I think I've found one that would... what?"

Xander didn't seem to happy with that suggestion. "Will.. magic? Are you sure you should be messing with that? Hell, Buffy doesn't even want us to..."

"This isn't about Buffy, Xander! It's just... I can fix this." Starting to come apart again. "I _need_ to fix this, I can't let Oz think this is his fault and -"

"OK, Will, OK." Xander tried to calm her down. "If you say it'll work, I'm sure it will. So what are we talking about exactly?"

"It's a simple spell. The reason they're haunting the school is probably because they have unfinished business and they will keep doing it until they get closure, say what they need to say. Only if they keep killing each other they can't do that, because, y'know, death. This will put their souls to rest. I think."

"You _think_?"

"Hey, new at this, remember? But I've triple-checked, and this is supposed to work. I'll just need to get some ingredients for the spell first."

"Ah yes, where does a 20th century witch procure her newt's eyes?"

"There's something called the Magic Box downtown, I'll try that. We'll meet up in one of the classrooms after school. OK?"

* * *

The day went by uneventfully, with no sightings of either Buffy or Oz. Eventually they met up in the empty chemistry room. Willow arranged the items she'd found at the Magic Box – which turned out to be a pretty neat place that she hoped to visit again soon – in front of her and sat down. "So, everyone clear on what to do?" 

"We're going to... play Scrabble?" Xander nodded sceptically at the heap of plastic letters arranged between two votive candles and a bowl with some smelly herbs.

"No. Or well, yeah, sorta. This is kind of a variation on a ouija board. The spell will use the letters to, uh, spell out the names of whoever is haunting the place and then help them find reconciliation and peace. Ready?" Xander and Cordy exchanged a glance, then each lit a candle, and Willow took a deep breath, picked up the print-out from Jenny's computer and began chanting.

_"Spirits of lovers died too soon  
Thwarted happiness gone to ruin  
Love been unjustly denied  
Guilt that was not pacified  
I pray you hear me, hear me well  
You're bound to sympathy by this spell  
You who died within these walls  
Make your names be known to all  
To reunite what's torn apart  
Make your peace and then depart."_

She put the paper down and looked at the letters. Nothing had happened.

Cordelia frowned. "That's it?"

"I think maybe s-" Suddenly the candles were blown out as a strong and somehow bright gust of wind swept through the room, through the herbs, through the Scrabble letters, then right into Willow who blinked once in shock before keeling over unconscious.

"WILL!" Xander was at her side immediately. She was out, but at least she was breathing, and he couldn't see any physical injuries. "Cordy, get the car, we're taking her to the hospital. I should never have let her..."

Cordelia held the door open as Xander carried the limp Willow outside. None of them thought to look at the letters, which had been blown around by the wind, some scattered throughout the room, some turned upside down, some broken – and some forming words. As the draft from the closing door blew away the herbs that had been strewn over the little plastic letters, not two but four names could clearly be read.

JAMES STANLEY

GRACE NEWMAN

JENNIFER CALENDAR

RUPERT GILES

And the spell started working. When it found four where it expected two, it went by seniority.

* * *

In the library, Sirk went over the locator spell again. Something was playing havoc with it tonight, like static on a radio. This couldn't be right. The Slayer was supposed to be by any minute now, and according to the spell, Angelus was on his way to... 

"Bugger."

Sirk reached for his crossbow, checked around him to make sure he was alone, and then promptly made his way towards the back exit. They were not paying him to fight vampires.

* * *

Giles felt himself being pulled. 

He had no eyes or ears to tell him that, yet somehow he knew. And even without senses, he recognized where he was going. This was the school. Why was he here? This wasn't where he...

Had he died? He thought so. He remembered Angelus defeating him, Drusilla grabbing him, biting down, his life ebbing away... And then nothing. No space, no time, no light, no darkness. Limbo.

This was different, though. He was in the world again, being pulled towards... something. He could feel other presences around him. Including Jenny. The same force that was pulling him was pulling her, but not to the same place, and though Giles tried to reach out to her he found himself being drawn together with someone else. Someone as non-corporeal as himself, yet someone  
_(bound to sympathy)_  
he could relate to; the one who broke it off, the one who wanted to protect, the one who was always unable to. And just as Giles was drawn into Grace, Jenny – the one who screwed up and had died risking all to be reunited with her love – was drawn into James. And there they hung. Bound. Waiting.

* * *

It was equal parts guilt and anger that had made Buffy stay out of school today. After checking from a safe distance that Willow was OK, she'd spent most of the day training and arguing with herself whether Xander was an asshole or if he had a point. The argument had ended in a tie, and a nagging doubt that maybe she was doing something wrong. She had gone along with Snyder's and Sirk's plans to keep the others safe and to find Angel – but so far the only results had been a lot of dead fledgling vamps, not one sighting of Angel and possibly the loss of her friends. Heading into the school, she was intent on asking Sirk some very serious questions. She wanted this OVER with. 

Of course, that intent died pretty much the second she rounded the corner in the hall and found herself face to face with Angelus.

"There you are!" His face broke up into a wide grin, stinging her to the bone; he'd never smiled like this before... He really looked happy. Evil, insane, but happy. "I gotta say, lover, school was the last place I expected to find you. Let's face it, your brains were never your best asset, and besides, I really hoped you would come find _me_."

_OK, this is it then._ Buffy slowly reached for the stake in her pocket, feeling the adrenaline rush kick in. "Well, I just figured we did it at your place last time. Turnabout's fair play, right?"

Angelus just kept grinning, but with a much more menacing tone to it now, starting to move around to find a weak spot. He'd been waiting for this just as long as she had. "Oh yeah, fair. You get me all worked up promising a big fight, and then you run and hide like a little schoolgirl. Do you really think I have nothing better to do than wait around for you to grow a pair? Or did you think if you ignored me I'd just get tired and your boyfriend would be back? Think again, sweetcheeks. I mean", he actually giggled, "there's so much you and I haven't gotten to do yet, and I've got so much to teach you! Whaddyasay, Buff? You wanna dance?"

She just narrowed her eyes, ready to spring into action in the blink of an eye – he would make the first move, vampires always do, and she couldn't afford to lose a fraction of a second when he did. "Just keep talking while you can." She raised the stake.

Angelus rolled his eyes. "Tut-tut-tut. We both know how this ends. Do you really think you can..." He blinked in surprise as the grin faded and was replaced with a look of desperation. "...make me disappear just because you say it's over?"

"I..." Buffy hardly had time to think _Huh?_ before she suddenly felt something – someone  
_(someoneS?)_  
possessing her body. She felt and heard everything, but she wasn't in the driver's seat anymore. "I just want you to be able to have some kind of normal life. We can never have that, don't you see?"

The vampire stepped closer. "I don't give a DAMN about a normal life! I'm going crazy not seeing you. I think about you every minute!"

(Behind it all, Giles could see Angelus through Buffy's eyes. And underneath Angelus he could see the ghost a frantic teenage boy screaming at the woman he loved... and he could see Jenny, just as helpless as himself, both of them tied down by the spell and powerless to do anything but act out the script set by the ghosts. Jenny mimicked every movement, every line spoken by Angelus just like he himself followed Buffy's part of the dance. When he saw  
Angelus   
James  
Jenny  
pull a gun, he realized where this was going. He wanted to scream, wanted to stop this, wanted to save what couldn't be saved. But he'd already failed over a week ago and all the former watcher could do was... watch.)

"DON'T WALK AWAY FROM ME, BITCH!"

Buffy  
_(Grace)  
(Giles)_  
ran. But they ran out of hallway and the balcony offered no escape. Turn around. Try to talk sense into him... She raised her hands. "You know you don't want to do this. Let's both... just calm down. Now give me the gun."

Waving the gun around, Angelus  
_(James)  
(Jenny)_  
was close to tears. "DON'T! Don't DO that, damn it! Don't talk to me like I'm some sort of –" He wasn't aware that he'd pulled the trigger, and the bang and reek of gunpowder didn't seem to make any sense. The possessed Slayer looked down at the blood on her shirt, looked back up at him with a puzzled look on her face, then went limp, tumbled over the railing and hit the ground with a sickening thud.

In calm shock, Angelus walked over to the edge of the balcony. The body below him wasn't moving. The walk back to the music room seemed to take forever, still not sure who (s)he was. He found the record he wanted and put the needle in the groove.

_My love must be a kind of blind love  
I can't see anyone but you  
The moon may be high  
But I can't see a thing in the sky_

He put the gun to his head.

_'Cause I only have eyes for you..._

BANG

* * *

_Author's note 2: To be continued._


	12. Ambulance Blues

**Chapter 9: Ambulance Blues**

Buffy walked into the library. She had come here looking for something, that much she was sure of. She tried to think of what exactly it was, but somewhere outside a fire alarm or something was wailing weeeeoooo-weeeeoooo-weeeeoooo and she wasn't sure how much time she had. "Um... hello? Is anybody here?" A voice she'd never heard before answered – only the words made no sense.

_-sian female-_

She turned around to see where the voice had come from. There was no one around that she could see, and she supposed it must have come from somewhere in the back. Could someone be hiding in the stacks? "Hellooo? Come out, come out wherever you are..."

_-nshot wound to the chest, she's losing bl-_

Nope, it definitely wasn't coming from there. Kinda hard to tell, it seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time, fading in and then quickly fading out again. Buffy tried to pinpoint the source of the voice, but the fire alarm outside was getting louder and she couldn't concentrate. She frowned; there was something she was supposed to be doing, and it probably didn't involve standing around all alone in the high school library. There was something about finding... what? There was a picture of Angel sitting on the librarian's desk, the glass in the frame shattered, was that it? Why was she alone here anyway, wasn't there supposed to be someone else in the library?

She'd barely finished the thought when she heard steps behind her. "Hello, Buffy."

"GILES!" She turned around, ran to her watcher and threw her arms around him. "Giles, I thought I'd lost you..." He hugged her back and said something, but she couldn't hear him over... "GOD, I wish someone would shut off that fire alarm."

"That's not a fire alarm, Buffy." Just as he said that, the  
_(siren)_  
noise cut abruptly and she could finally talk to him. If she didn't get interrupted by that voice again, that is.

_-ake her up to Intensive Care immediat-_

"Will you shut UP? Talking to my watcher here!" She turned back to Giles. "I'm sorry, I don't know who that is that keeps interrrupting. I don't think it's important anymore."

"It might be. Buffy, I don't think we have much time."

_-er pulse is dropping quickl-_

"What do you mean, there's plenty of-" She felt something sticky against her chest and looked down. There was a big red splotch on both hers and Giles' shirts, and suddenly she thought she remembered something. "Oh, Giles, I'm so sorry..."

"Don't be."

"But I... I let Angel... Giles, I should have been there. I couldn't save you, I couldn't save Jenny, I-"

_-no pulse-_

Suddenly the fire alarm was back, only the weeeeoooo-weeeeoooo-weeeeoooo had now turned into a very annoying beeeeeeep. She wondered if that meant everything had been taken care of. Somehow it felt like she could finally let go of all the crap of the last two  
(years)  
weeks when Giles smiled at her and ran his hand over her head. "I know this feels awful, but you need to know this: you never failed me, Buffy. We all make our own choices, and you can't hold yourself responsible for that. This is a dangerous business, and no one can protect everyone."

"But if I had stopped him when I had the chance... or if me and him had never..."

_-re losing her-_

Giles shook his head. "Or if Jenny had told us about the curse, or if I hadn't gone off half-cocked on a suicide mission... Buffy, you cannot second-guess everything. Bad things are always going to happen, it's how you act on them that matters."

"NOW you tell me", Buffy pouted, looking down at the blood dripping from the hole in her chest. Less of it now, as if there wasn't much left. Funny, a wound like that really ought to hurt, instead it just made her feel... tired. The beeping signal was getting louder, and that wasn't helping any.

"Are you coming, Rupert?" Jenny was standing in the open doors of the library. Beyond her, Buffy could see two more people – a woman and a young man – and beyond them was something... bright. A warm and inviting light, and there was music coming from it as well... she understood why people called it harps, but somehow that seemed like calling the Grand Canyon a ditch. She'd never heard anything that beautiful before.

"Yes." Giles smiled to Jenny, then he turned back to his Slayer. "Goodbye, Buffy. I'm proud of you, remember that. I love you."

"Wait, what do you mean goodbye? Aren't I supposed to come with you?"

_-Do we call it?-_

Giles had started moving towards the door, and when he looked back at her the peaceful look his face had moments earlier was replaced by one of almost pleading sadness. "I really wish you wouldn't."

"But I don't know how to do this without you!"

"You'll learn. You didn't make it this far just because of me, Buffy, you've got tremendous strength in you. You just have to trust yourself. Let other people help you, but don't let them control you." The alarm was growing louder all the time, the beeeeep had turned to a piercing shriek, and he had to shout to be heard as he put his arm around Jenny and stepped into the bright doorway.

"But..." She wanted to gesture at the bullet hole that had torn her open, but found she could barely lift her arms anymore. "Giles, what if I don't make it? What if I'm stuck here, between..." Her voice was just a croak and he couldn't hear her over the noise. She ran towards the closing door, but Giles turned to her one last time and shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Buffy. I can't let you." He shut the door in her face and she stumbled, falling -

_-CLEAR!-_

Energy surged through her chest and suddenly the pain was back. The library blinked out of existence and everything went dark. Somewhere far off the continuous signal skipped a beat and then settled into a rhythm.

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._


	13. Brain Damage

**Chapter 10: Brain Damage**

"Will you just calm down?" Cordelia sighed as she looked up at Xander who was pacing back and forth in the hospital's waiting area. "Look, I know you're worried, but I'm sure she's going to be alright. And if you wear a hole in that carpet you're paying for it yourself."

Xander was about to answer, then he saw the doctor coming out of the exam room and ran over to him instead. "How is she?"

"Are you family?" The doctor regarded him warily.

"Well, no, not as such, but... Look, I've known her for 14 years and her parents are out of town." He had no idea if that was true, but knowing the Rosenbergs it was probably a good guess. "Right now I'm as close as she's got and could you please just tell me how Willow's doing?"

Seeing his genuine concern, the older man relented. "Well, she woke up a few minutes ago. As far as I've been able to tell so far there's nothing wrong with her, but we'd still like to run a few tests. You said she just fainted?"

Xander considered telling him about the spell, but decided the doctor seemed suspicious enough even without knowing they had been messing around with the black arts. He nodded.

"Do you know if anything like this has happened to her before? Epileptic fits, anxiety attacks, migraines...?"

_Well, there was the time she was captured by vampires and almost sacrificed, and the evil egg that turned her into a zombie, and the stage-fright freakout with extra vomit..._ "No, nothing like that."

"And you're sure she hasn't been doing drugs?"

"Willow? Drugs?" Xander almost laughed at the thought. "No way. If there's anything I'm sure of –"

"Fine." The doctor smiled. "Then unless it's something brand new, I'd say there's probably nothing to worry about. You can go in and sit with her for a few minutes if you like, I'll be back to run those tests."

"Thank you, doctor." Xander turned to Cordelia feeling as if a 300-pound weight had been lifted off his chest. "She's OK."

"See? What did I tell you? You really should pay more attention, Xander Harris." Cordelia smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "You go in and talk to her. I'll get us some coffee."

Standing in line for the coffee machine, Cordelia got to thinking about... well... here she was, Queen C of Sunnydale, standing in line for freeze-dried coffee with a bunch of sick people so her dweeb boyfriend could talk to his nerd friend in peace. And damnit, it felt _good_. OK, so maybe not good, that spell _had_ been scary, but right somehow. Ever since Giles' death, things had felt... focused, like there were some things she needed to do more than others. Taking care of the people she... liked, for instance. It felt important. She got her two styrofoam cups of brownish liquid and walked back towards Willow's room, still deep in thought. Which meant that when she walked through the entrance hall without looking, she collided rather violently with a woman running at full clip towards the elevator. They both went down in a painful tangle of limbs, Cordelia's coffee spilling out over her jacket.

"OW! Hey, watch where you're going! You are _so_ going to pay for drycleaning this..." She looked up at the other woman, who didn't seem like she even noticed her; she was busy trying to scramble to her feet, looking like a wild animal was after her, tears streaming down her face. Of course, it was a face Cordelia knew. "...Mrs Summers?"

* * *

Willow looked up when he came into the room. "Oh, hey." 

"Hey there, Will." Xander sat down beside his oldest friend, taking in how she looked. Paler than usual – though that could be the fluorescent lights – and tired, but not exactly sick. If anything, she looked almost giddy. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit loopy and generally icky, but also... I dunno, buzzed. Like I ate too much icecream and went on a rollercoaster. Man, that was powerful." She seemed to suddenly think of something and broke out in a bright smile. "Hey, do you think it worked? I mean, it felt like something happened right before I, uh, passed out..."

_Passed out. Yeah, no big deal._ Xander took her hand and squeezed it, as if just to make sure she was really OK. "Jesus, Will –"

"Hey!"

"Alright then, _Moses_, Will, you don't get to scare me like that. You have to promise you won't do it again."

"If you scare _that_ easily I'm not promising anything, mister." There was a teasing smile on Willow's lips that he knew all too well; that was the I-know-better-than-Xander-but-I'll-play-along-to-reassure-him smile.

"I'm serious. As far as any of us know you're damned lucky to be alive. At least with vampires we know what we're up against, but doing magic without Giles or Jenny or anyone to stop you if you do something wrong? That's playing in traffic. Blindfolded. On the highway. Please, promise me you won't try it again."

Willow looked as if she was going to argue, then sighed and pouted. "Fine. I promise. I mean, it's not like I was going to be Superwitch or anything, I just thought I could help, 'sall..."

"I know. And hey, maybe you did. I guess we'll know tomorrow."

Just then the door flew open and Cordelia popped her head in, looking like she'd seen a ghost. "Xander, you have to come with me right now."

"Cor, we're kind of in the middle of-"

"Buffy's been shot."

* * *

And so it was that Xander was the one to support Joyce as they stood at the foot of Buffy's bed, listening to the doctor explain. Behind them, Willow sat in a wheelchair staring in horror at her best friend lying among a bunch of wires and tubes and beeping machines keeping her alive. _She looks so... small. Yep, that spell must have worked A-OK. God, I'm so stupid._

Joyce listened to the doctor explain, though it felt like he was shouting at her from at least 10 miles away. Ever since she got the phone call an hour earlier she'd felt like she was falling down a deep hole, and something told her she was about to hit bottom. "Your daughter is still in critical condition, but I think we've managed to stabilize her for now. We've set the broken bones and they should heal fine, and the gunshot wound is serious but barring complications it shouldn't be life-threatening anymore. However..." The doctor took a deep breath; he hated this part of his job. "The big issue right now is that she was in full cardiac arrest for well over three minutes, and combined with the massive blood loss... right now there's no telling how much damage that may have done to her brain."

"Oh God..." Xander had to hold on to Joyce when her knees buckled.

The man in the white coat knew he had to continue. "Mrs Summers, I know this sounds awful and I don't want you to give up hope, we're going to do everything we can, but you have to prepare yourself for the possibility that she might never regain consciousne-"

"Mom?" At least that's what Buffy meant to say; the respirator tube down her throat made sure it came out only as a muffled and barely audible "Unh". But her eyes were open, and Joyce tore away from Xander and pushed past the bewildered doctor to kneel by her daughter.

"Buffy?" Joyce barely dared make eye contact, terrified of looking into the dull eyes of someone who would never again be the girl she knew... but when she did meet her daughter's gaze she knew, and wept with joy. There was life in there. Buffy was terrified and hurt, but all there. "Hey, sweetheart. Welcome back."

"Euurgh..." _It hurts..._

"I know, sweetie. Just don't try to speak, OK? You're going to be fine. You're going to be fine."

* * *

He barely seemed to weigh anything as she carried him through the dark streets. Some more-or-less rational part of Drusilla's brain tried to reason that this was because she was strong; vampires are strong, just like vampires can find their loved ones by sense of smell – especially when their smells are splattered all over a room. That rational part tried to tell her that as awful as the gaping holes in his head looked – a small one at his temple, and a huge crater on the other side – there was no way all of him was gone. A pound or two, tops. Maybe three. Most of him, muscle, bone, skin, even blood, was still there in her arms. But that part of her was fighting a losing battle with panic; she could smell his sweat, touch his skin, taste his blood, see his face – what was left of it – and hear the sound of squeaking leather when one of his limbs would twitch, but her _real_ sense, the one that had damned her, was quiet. She could always hear others as whispers in her head, but tonight there was nothing. All the way home she kept reaching out for him, both with her voice and her mind - _DADDY DADDY DADDY wake UP_ - but all she got in return was silence. Not a single thought, not a word, not even a mindless groan since his lungs were long empty and there was nothing telling them to fill themselves up again. 

Her pleas turned to sobs as she carried him into the mansion. "SPIIIKE!"

Her childe came rolling towards her with an annoyed look. "Easy, Ducks, you'll wake up all of Sunn- Oh bloody hell." He stopped when he saw her kneel next to the body of their sire. _Shit, somebody did a number on Gramps. What's that, a .44? Looks like it's just the hair gel holding him together._ "Calm down, Dru." Spike pointed to Angelus' hand, twitching feebly on the carpet. "He's alive, ain't he? If he hasn't dusted..."

"But I can't _hear _him!" Drusilla wailed. "He's not in there! Everything is quiet, the storm has torn the roof off the belfry and all the little bats are gone and the bells won't ring anymore..." She ran a trembling hand over the hole in Angelus' skull, shuddering at the squishy pink stuff that clung to her finger when she brought it up to her nose. "A quagmire of mingled brains, muddied, thick and unwholesome..." She whimpered in disgust as she wiped her hand on the front of her dress. "That harlot of a Slayer did this to him, Spike. I want her to pay. I want to feed her to Daddy, drop by ruddy drop. I want her to die as slowly as he lives. Please, Spike, she needs to suffer."

"Don't worry, my sweet. We'll set everything right again." Spike patted her head affectionately. Angelus would heal, of course. It would take time and would probably be quite amusing to watch. Sure, he could easily stake him as soon as Dru turned her back, but she certainly wouldn't thank him for it... and frankly, wouldn't it be more fun to torture the old fella a bit? Let's see how Dru likes changing her precious Daddy's nappies and wiping the drool off his chin for a while. Let Spike be the hero for a change. And if he got a chance to pay the Slayer back for dropping a church organ on him in the process... so much the better. "Everything's going to be fine."

* * *

_Author's note: I don't say this nearly enough: THANKS SO MUCH to everyone who reads and/or reviews. It's very much appreciated. This story has been stuck in Writersblockland for some time, but I think it's going to move along a little better in the future...  
_


End file.
